


With the touch of your hands

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [26]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Happy, Happy Ending, Hug or Die, Hugs, Kidnapping, Kissing, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Pining, Spells & Enchantments, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved, Trust, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: When Loki kidnaps him, Tony’s worried that it’s for some nefarious reason. But… he’s surprised to learn that all Loki wants from him is a hug.





	With the touch of your hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts).

> Sesil, I couldn't give you a hug today because we live cruelly far apart, but I hope that these two hugging each other works as something of a substitute. ❤︎  
  
**Prompt**— _“You’re the one thing keeping me sane right now.”_

Tony had always thought of Loki as the kind of person who enjoyed the journey more than the result. It was obvious in the way that he fought, in the way that his schemes and plots tended to be flashy and loud and fun to deal with, even though Tony knew Loki was more than capable of being subtle if it suited him. He never really seemed to have an _aim_– or at least, only very rarely, if he were trying to steal something or get under someone in particular’s skin. But most of the time, it seemed like Loki just liked to have _fun_, like his sole purpose in making the Avengers’ lives difficult was so that he could see the looks on their faces when he ran them in circles over and over again.

So when Loki appeared in Avengers Tower one morning with absolutely no warning at all, grabbed Tony’s arm and then vanished them both without even uttering a word– everyone had been in such of state of shock that they didn’t even try to stop him.

Tony’s just-brewed coffee sloshed all down his front as he stumbled on the landing, and it was the loss of the caffeine (and the burn of the hot liquid, of course, though that was secondary) which had him spluttering out an angry complaint.

“What the _hell_, Loki?”

“My apologies,” Loki said, his voice a little strained. He let go of Tony’s arm as if he had been burned, and he stumbled a step backward as if it were difficult for him to do so. “I am afraid that in this instance, I did not have much of a choice.”

Tony knew that this was beyond bad– he didn’t have his suit, he didn’t even know where Loki had taken him. He could picture his phone, lying on the kitchen bench next to the coffee machine– and he had yet to even put on his JARVIS-tracked watch. He’d only just rolled out of bed, thrown on the first clothes he’d touched and then headed down for his coffee.

And now… well, his heart _should_ have been beating much too fast, his quick breaths almost on the verge of panic because he was at Loki’s mercy. He had no means to get away, no means to fight, and no means to call for help. In short, if Loki had taken him for some kind of nefarious reason, then Tony was well and truly fucked.

But there was something _off_ about Loki that calmed Tony’s nerves, that almost made him more concerned than anything else– save, perhaps, _confused_. There was something crazed about Loki’s eyes, a feverish gleam that echoed through the way his fingers were twisting together nervously.

Noticing Tony’s attention, Loki moved his arms to his sides– but the effort it took for him to hold them there was more than obvious in the tightness of his fists and the white of his knuckles.

“Loki,” Tony said slowly, cautiously, not worried of saying the wrong thing and making him angry but rather just aware that there was clearly _something_ going on here that he didn’t understand. “Come on Reindeer Games, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Loki grimaced. “I promise that I am not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice strained.

“You must have kidnapped me for some reason,” Tony pointed out– and when Loki actually _flinched_, Tony held up his hands placatingly. “And okay, I believe that you’re not going to hurt me. But—”

“This isn’t a kidnapping,” Loki said suddenly.

“Really? Because you just kind of barged in, interrupted breakfast, _spilled my coffee_—”

“If you wish to leave, I will not stop you,” Loki told him, his eyes flicking to the side– and when Tony followed his gaze, he saw that there was a door. They seemed to be in a small house, almost a cottage perhaps, though the inside was tastefully decorated. The space was small but well lived in, with scattered books and a very familiar black coat thrown over the back of the couch.

It was clear that this was where Loki lived– if not permanently, then at least for now. Somehow, that put Tony more at ease than if Loki had taken him anywhere else. And knowing that the door was _there_ was enough for him to turn his back on it.

“If you’re going to just let me go,” he said slowly, “Then why did you take me in the first place? You must have known it was risky to just appear in the Tower—”

“I told you, I didn’t have a choice.” Loki’s arms were curled around his middle now, like he was trying to stop them from reaching out, or perhaps trying to hold himself together– or… maybe a mix of the two.

“Loki,” Tony said, taking half a step forward on some deeply buried instinct, that sense of needing to _hold_ someone when they looked like they were in pain. “Look, you promised not to hurt me, and I believe you—”

“Just like that?” Loki asked, disbelief mingling with hope.

“Just like that,” Tony confirmed. “You haven’t tried to hurt me in… a very long time. And while I don’t entirely trust you, I can see there’s something going on here. You look like you need help, and I’m not a monster. I’m not about to just leave you like this– whatever _this_ is.”

Loki seemed to curl in even further on himself as he said, “I know, I know that you’re not, which is why… you were my only choice.”

“Because you thought I would believe you?” Tony asked, trying to tease out the edges of the problem, trying to put the pieces together.

“Because you’re the only one who ever seems to understand,” Loki replied. “Everyone sees _me_ as a monster, everyone except for you. I’ve seen the way that you laugh at my plots while everyone else condemns me, and I know that you are a _good_ person, not a righteous one. And I thought that maybe, if I asked you for help, you would be willing to give it.”

Tony let out a breath, still feeling a little unsure, yet feeling unable to walk away all the same. Loki wasn’t just stressed– he almost looked like he was _suffering_, and if there was something Tony could do to relieve some of that pain, then he knew he was going to do it. No matter what.

“If you want me to help,” he said, “then you’re going to have to tell me what you need.”

As Loki tried to give his answer, it looked like it was physically paining him. “I need—” Loki’s teeth gnashed together. “I need you to—”

“Hey,” Tony said gently, stepping forward again but with a _purpose_ this time. “It’s okay.”

It was a long shot, a guess that wasn’t really based on anything more than a hunch, than a _feeling _wrapped in the pain of watching Loki trying to hold himself together.

Perhaps it should have been harder to do, considering who it was– but Tony didn’t hesitate at all as he reached out and brushed his fingers along Loki’s elbow. Their skin remained separated by the material of Loki’s long-sleeved shirt, but Loki’s reaction was extreme. His whole body shuddered, his eyes closing even as his lips pressed tight into a line, as if he were both forcibly relieved and yet aching for something more than what Tony had offered.

But it was all the confirmation Tony needed, and then he wrapped his arms around Loki’s shoulders and drew him close, one hand pressing into Loki’s back and the other threading through his hair, coaxing Loki’s head down onto his shoulder.

And finally, _finally_, Loki relaxed, melting into Tony’s hold and pressing his face into the curve of Tony’s neck with an honest to god whimper. His arms curled around Tony’s waist and he held him close, clinging with a desperate kind of need that lingered on possession, but really just felt more like a deep-seated yearning.

“So you just really needed a hug, huh?” Tony asked, his lips curling into a smile as he tilted his head to rest it atop Loki’s, making sure that he still held Loki securely in his arms.

Loki’s breath huffed against Tony’s neck, but the god made no attempt to move away– nor, for that matter, to explain.

Tony could live with that, though– he felt like he had deduced most of what had happened, and there was no reason to keep fighting this. Although… Tony had expected that Loki would continue to calm in his arms, that once he had what he needed he would relax until he was sated. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Loki was still trying to press _closer_, as if there were something still itching under his skin that wasn’t going away. There was a low whine in his throat that Loki didn’t seem to even be aware of, but he had pressed his face so close to Tony’s neck that Tony could feel the vibrations of it against his skin.

“You need more than this, don’t you?” Tony realised, and although Loki’s only reaction was a tensing of his muscles, Tony knew the answer. “Hey,” he said. “You promised not to hurt me. That still applies, right?”

Loki nodded tersely, his arms curling around Tony a little tighter.

“Good. Then show me, Loki. What do you need?”

This time, Loki didn’t waste a moment arguing. He was, however, reluctant to let Tony go, and it was a bit of an awkward shuffle when Tony realised that he was trying to get them both over to the couch, but they managed it. But then, when Tony went to sit down, Loki held him still, hesitation striking lines over his expression.

Tony was about to ask again, but then Loki’s fingers touched the hem of Tony’s shirt, and his intentions were made clear.

“You do not have to,” Loki whispered.

“I know,” Tony said. “Loki, you’re killing me more with the suspense than anything else. Just spit it out.”

“I need contact,” Loki replied, the words tense and yet still with a touch of desperation. “I was hit with a spell, and I need… if I don’t have skin contact for the duration of the spell, then…”

Loki’s gaze was pained, and Tony knew that he probably didn’t want to know what would happen _then_. But that didn’t matter, anyway, because he was never going to _need_ to learn the answer.

Tony was only wearing a now coffee-stained T-shirt, thrown on after waking up, so he pulled it over his head and chucked it onto one of the armchairs. Loki’s expression brightened, and his own shirt vanished in a shimmer of green. He remained hesitant, though, as he curled an arm around Tony’s waist, but his smile was soft when Tony didn’t pull away. They stayed together as they positioned themselves comfortably on the couch, with Loki drawing Tony close until Tony was curled against Loki’s chest, his head on Loki’s shoulder.

Loki sighed heavily, and every piece of remaining tension melted away as he ducked his head to bury his face in Tony’s hair. 

“You’re the one thing keeping me sane right now,” he whispered, the words slightly muffled but ringing truer than any promise. “_Thank you_.”

“Loki,” Tony said, glancing up to catch his gaze. “You’re welcome.”

Loki’s smile looked like it might have been a little bit sad, but the happiness in his eyes was unmistakable, overwhelming what Tony guessed were likely remaining insecurities.

They stayed pressed together for hours, curled together on the couch with Loki's coat pulled around them to keep them both warm, the light through the windows changing as the sun rose higher in the sky. And yet, despite the passage of time and being forced to remain in the one place, Tony – rather remarkably – did not become bored. The more that Loki relaxed, the more they were able to simply _talk_, exchanging stories and theories and getting to know one other better than they ever could have from the opposite sides of a fight.

Loki made Tony laugh harder than he had in a while, and Tony couldn’t help but find that Loki’s responding chuckles were intoxicating to hear. And as they grew all the more comfortable where they were, Loki’s fingers began to draw patterns into the skin of Tony’s back– and Tony found himself _enjoying_ it, the sensation sending a warm, pleasant feeling through him that he had not felt in a very long time.

He had always known that he liked Loki, at least in the loose sense of the word. He had always been excited to hear that it was _Loki_ causing trouble, had always looked forward to their next altercation with an excitement that was far too bright to be the adrenaline of an expected battle.

And when Loki’s touches turned softer, when laughter turned to a tender smile as their eyes met– Tony propped up on one elbow, leaning so close that he could feel Loki’s breath upon his cheek…

“Loki,” Tony asked, _needing_ to know. “Why did you decide to pick me to help you with this?”

It was a question that Loki had half answered already, but Loki didn’t point that out. One of his hands moved from Tony’s waist to cup his cheek, his thumb stroking gently over Tony’s warmed skin.

“I think you know,” Loki said.

Tony swallowed, his eyes flicking down to Loki’s lips– but that small admission wasn’t _enough_. Not yet.

“Tell me?” Tony whispered.

“I picked you because when I realised I needed someone to help me, someone who would see me vulnerable and weak, someone that I could _trust… _you were the first person I thought of,” Loki said, his voice tentative but still sure. “And I picked you because… even if I didn’t _have_ to, I have wished to feel your skin against mine for quite some time.”

That was all that Tony needed to hear, and he leaned down to draw Loki into a kiss.

Loki gasped against his lips, responding eagerly but not forcibly, still not pushing Tony any further than he was willing to go. But Tony found that wasn’t what he _wanted_, and he nipped at Loki’s lips lightly at first, and then a little harder—

Loki surged up then, pressing into Tony as one hand braced against the couch and the other buried into Tony’s hair, kissing back with the release of a pent-up passion that made Tony groan.

Perhaps he should have seen this coming. After all, he should have realised that there was more to this from the moment he agreed to letting one of the Avengers’ enemies hold him close with hardly any hesitation at all– from the moment that Tony had decided to offer _whatever_ Loki needed, just so long as it helped him feel better. 

And even when the kiss ended, they still remained close, still pressed together without an intention of moving any time soon.

“Are you sure about this?” Loki asked, his voice gentle. “How do you know that this is not simply the spell still influencing me?”

Tony smiled, his hand shifting to stroke Loki’s cheek. “I know.”

And when their lips pressed back together in a sweet kiss, Tony knew that no matter what happened next, they wouldn’t be returning to enemies– because even though it was brand new, Tony was already sure that it was much too precious to risk letting go.


End file.
